


Relationship Status

by RageCandyBar



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Enemies and Lovers, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers to—, F/M, Fluff, RvB Fluff Week, old fic that i forgot to post here until now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageCandyBar/pseuds/RageCandyBar
Summary: Church spends months trying to figure out whether he and Tex are “together” again, and then Tex just casually calls him her boyfriend, as if she hadn’t broken his wrist last week.
Relationships: Leonard L. Church | AI Program Alpha/Agent Texas | AI Program Beta
Kudos: 18





	Relationship Status

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the RvB fluff week in March 2018, so of course I'm here to post it three years later, hsdlkhfd  
> Looking back on this, I'm still pretty proud of it. :) Enjoy!
> 
> Also, someone drew some adorable fanart based on this fic! And I screamed for multiple consecutive days when I saw it!! Check out this [lovely art by world-loading!](https://world-loading.tumblr.com/post/618370542735622144/wait-does-this-mean-i-get-to-call-you-my)

Church hadn’t been confident in his relationship status since before Jimmy died, when he could say with reasonable surety that he was single. Everything after that, from Jimmy’s untimely and improbable demise to the present, was an uncertain gray period which he could only describe as “???”.

After all, when your ex- fiancée slaughters an entire outpost of people and leaves only you alive, you start to ask questions. Questions like “Why did my ex- fiancée slaughter an entire outpost of people?” and “Why did she leave me alive?” He was pretty sure that, traditionally, exes hated each other ― and, hell, he was equally sure the rage he felt at the mere mention of his ex was mutual ― so, if anything, shouldn’t she have killed him first or in the most painful manner or something?

He hadn’t deluded himself into thinking that they were back together ― if Tex wanted to call the wedding back on, then she would’ve at least acknowledged him while she was murdering all his friends. But, from then on, there was a tiny, tingling doubt in the back of his mind; a whisper of  _ “Is she ever gonna come back again?”  _ and  _ “If she does, would we be a couple again?” _

Because, as pathetic as it was, and as much as he would deny it to his dying breath, there was one thing that Church could always be certain of: no matter what she’d done, no matter what he was doing, and no matter how long she’d been gone, he would always be willing to take Tex back.

(Not that he really needed to be. Church didn’t so much “take Tex back” as he did “nod meekly whenever she told him that they were together again”. And Tex didn’t so much “tell him they were together again” as she did “occasionally make out with him and then vanish for another couple months”.)

Church hadn’t been sure if he could call himself “single” or “taken” in years, but there were still moments when he knew he could lean more towards one or the other. Like when Tex hung around for longer than usual, nonchalantly slinging an arm around his shoulders and punching him in the shoulder without breaking any bones and just generally indicating, in her very violent and not particularly romantic way, that they were “a thing” again, at least for now. Or, conversely, when she beat the shit out of him and his team, dropped some snarky insults, and then left the way she’d came without sparing him a second glance, which was a pretty solid indicator to the contrary.

And then sometimes she would just show up, do nothing, and stick around for a while, leaving Church to speculate.

God, he fucking  _ hated _ it when she did that. Navigating an on-again off-again relationship with a bloodthirsty Freelancer was difficult enough; the least she could do was make it clear whether or not there  _ was _ a relationship, rather than leaving that part up to interpretation.  _ Especially  _ since Tex was pretty much impossible to interpret on the best of days. With her, the difference between a punch in the face and a slightly softer punch in the face could mean the difference between abject hatred and tender affection.

The end result was that Church spent way, way too much time agonizing over every action she took. When she roughly shouldered past him in the hallway, was she in a hurry to leave for another five months, or was that her version of a “good morning” nudge? When she split their coffee reserves down the middle, proclaiming half of it hers and half of it Blue Team’s, did that mean she was going to take her share and run off in the middle of the night, or did it mean she was planning on staying here long enough to drink it all? She had only called him a cockbite twice in the past week; did that mean she was drifting away, or was she not getting annoyed with him as often?

Tex had been staying at Blue Base for the past five  _ (five!) _ months, and she hadn’t killed or even grievously injured anyone yet. Not even Tucker. Not even  _ Caboose. _

That had to mean  _ something,  _ right?

_ Right?! _

Surely, Tex knew what she was doing. After all, she wasn’t dumb, and everyone else in Blood Gulch seemed to have picked up on it ― including Caboose, who never picked up anything except automatic weapons and people, and Donut, whose existence Church had completely forgotten about until now.

“Dude, you’re making this too complicated,” Tucker had said. “Just see if she’ll let you bone her or not. It’s not as hard as you think, bow chicka bow ―  _ OW! _ Don’t kill the messenger, you dick!”

If not for the fact that they were both ghosts inhabiting robot vessels at the moment, and therefore completely incapable of actually fucking, Church might’ve actually taken Tucker’s advice, which just goes to show how desperate he was actually getting. Alas, though, they were restricted to first and second base; Sarge was pretty good at building androids, but not  _ that _ good (which, frankly, Church was grateful for; no man should be trusted with that kind of power, least of all  _ Sarge). _

“Are you sad because Tex won’t let you be her very best friend and hold her hand and do nighttime Twister and drink milk?” was Caboose’s brilliant guess. Completely ignoring Church’s sputtered denials, he proceeded to suggest, “Maybe, if  _ you _ hold  _ her _ hand, she will hold  _ your  _ hand, and then maybe she won’t be as mean and scary anymore, and, uh, maybe she won’t be upset about the fire that Tucker started.”

True desperation, Church discovered, was actually considering Caboose’s advice for more than two seconds. Hand-holding wasn’t exactly on the list of Things That Tex Do, though ― and, even if it was, trying to initiate it would be a fast way to get his arm ripped off, especially if he was wrong and Tex hadn’t made them “a thing” again. Then the fire alarm started blaring and Church realized that he’d missed the most important part of Caboose’s suggestion, so he put the entire thing out of his mind and grabbed the fire extinguisher.

Either his definitely-not-pining was obvious enough to be spotted from the other side of the canyon, or Tucker was a fucking snitch, because even various members of Red Team swung by to offer advice or snicker at him. Simmons demanded that he either keep his girlfriend away from Red Base or else kick his ex out (as if he had any sway over Tex, girlfriend or otherwise). Grif spent a full hour mocking him loudly from across the base while he raided their kitchen (as if he and Simmons weren’t even worse). Donut broke into his room at three in the morning and absolutely refused to get the fuck out, chattering ceaselessly about emotional vulnerability and the importance of communication until Tex finally came in and physically ejected him from the premises via the window.

Even so, Tex herself showed absolutely no sign that she knew or cared about his plight. She made no attempt to clear up the confusion. If anything, she got progressively less explicit about her intentions.

And it was driving Church  _ fucking crazy. _

She was doing this on purpose, wasn’t she? It took real dedication to make your feelings so profoundly unclear; it couldn’t be an accident. She was just fucking with him. She knew that he had no fucking clue if they were an item right now, so she was milking it for all the aggravation it was worth.

So it didn’t matter, Church decided the morning after Donut’s disastrous attempt at advice. At some point, it had turned into some kind of weird game, so there was no reason to keep looking for an answer. He already had his answer ― Tex was just jerking him around for the hell of it, which meant he was just as “???” as ever.

So, naturally, that was when Tex finally showed her hand.

Immediately after Church made his realization and finally settled down to sleep, his alarm blared. His accompanying groan was so loud and so drawn out that Tucker eventually shouted a weary “Oh my God, shut  _ up, _ Church,” from the next room over.

On a normal day, he would’ve just flipped the alarm off and gone the fuck to sleep, military code be damned, but, unfortunately, he was pretty damn sure Tex wouldn’t let that happen. Judging by her eventual intervention, she’d been kept up all night by Donut’s stupid blabbering, too, so there was no way she’d let him doze off; not if she had to get up. 

She hadn’t realized yet that she was allowed to flip off the alarm and go back to sleep, too.

So, with another groan and a muttered string of curses toward the Red Army, Church hauled himself out of bed and staggered out into the kitchen, not bothering to put on his armor or undersuit. That could wait. Or maybe he just wouldn’t wear it today. It’s not like he ever actually needed it ― not since Tex confiscated Caboose’s guns.

He was blindly jabbing a finger at the coffee machine, too exhausted to bother actually looking at the buttons, when Tex ambled in, also armorless ― an uncommon sight, but not unprecedented. Church spared her a brief glance and an incomprehensible mumble, then immediately went back to poking the coffee machine until something happened.

“It’s out of water, dumbass,” Tex said from behind him, sounding only marginally more awake than he was, and Church let out a groan to rival his first, dropping his head onto the shitty plastic machine and wishing he were dead. He didn’t have the mental, physical, or emotional energy to get more water, but, without coffee, he was doomed. God, the Red Team wasn’t so bad, but sometimes he just wanted to fucking murder all of them, starting with Donut and his shitty four A.M. advice.

“It’s too fucking early for this,” he managed to grumble, just barely opening his mouth enough to spit the words out.

Tex rolled her eyes audibly. “It’s 0600. Don’t be a crybaby.” Suddenly, he was shoved out of the way, and she shoved her own mug under the coffee machine, snatching his and filling it up with faucet water.

“Hey! I was there first, bitch!” he snapped, foolishly reaching for his mug.

Tex effortlessly body checked him into the side of the counter, holding the mug out of his reach. “You weren’t actually using it; you were just complaining,” she responded easily, almost playfully. “Were you even gonna fill it back up, or were you just gonna sit there and whine all day?”

Church glared at her, but didn’t argue the point. “Thought so,” she said smugly, pouring the water in and snapping the lid shut. “Just wait your turn, dumbass. You’ll live.”

With an irritated huff, Church begrudgingly leaned against the counter behind him and waited, watching Tex make her own coffee with weary indifference. As they waited, Tex drummed her fingers absently; other than that, the quiet hum of the coffee machine was the only sound.

“Hey,” Tex said after a long moment, not looking away from her mug, “what the fuck was Donut doing in your room at 0400, anyway?”

Church glanced over at her, brows furrowing. “What, didn’t you hear?” he asked, voice still bitter and tired. “He wasn’t exactly keeping his voice down.”

At that, Tex shot him a dry look. “Do I look like I pay any attention to anything that pink idiot says?”

…Fair enough. “Well, whatever. It wasn’t exactly the most riveting conversation, anyway,” Church muttered, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Asshole was just trying to―” He was interrupted by a yawn― “trying to give me some stupid fucking advice or something. Like  _ he’s  _ qualified to be a  _ life coach.” _

For a moment, Tex didn’t reply, and Church almost believed that she would just take his answer at face value. Then her gaze flickered back to the coffee machine and she said, as casual as can be, “So you two weren’t boning?”

Church choked on air, despite the fact that he didn’t actually have lungs or a windpipe. “Wh ―  _ what?!” _ he sputtered, his voice immediately rising to a glass-shattering pitch.  _ “No!  _ What the  _ fuck,  _ Tex?!”

She still didn’t turn to face him, but he could see the self-satisfied smirk cross her face, even from the side. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda suspicious. A Red hanging around in your room in the dead of night, completely armorless, making lots of noise… you got something you wanna tell me, Church? You sleeping with the enemy?”

Church absolutely refused to acknowledge any of the other indignant sounds that came out of his mouth, mostly because they were all so high that a fifteen-year-old-girl would wince. “Fuck you! Why would I ― fucking ―  _ Donut?  _ Fucking  _ Donut?”  _ Finally composing himself (somewhat), he shook his head harshly and crossed his arms against his chest, pulling his voice back down to a reasonable pitch. “Why the fuck do  _ you  _ care what I do, anyway?”

Shooting him a sidelong glance, Tex slowly raised one eyebrow.

“Uh, because I would prefer it if my boyfriend wasn’t sleeping with another man,” she said flatly. She looked back at the coffee machine. “Anyway, you can stop bitching; I know you aren’t boning Donut. I just wanted to see how high your voice can get while you’re still half-asleep.” She grabbed her full mug and took a sip, unbothered by the temperature. “No higher than usual. Too bad. I hoped you would break somebody’s visor.”

Church didn’t respond. He was too busy gaping at Tex like a fucking fish who just got shot in the chest and hasn’t realized it’s dead yet.

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Did ― did you just say  _ boyfriend?!” _

Tex paused, her mug half-raised to her lips. After a moment, she lowered the mug, turned on her heel, and scrutinized him, her eyes squinted and her brow furrowed. He was too shocked to squirm under her gaze, so he just stared right back at her, his mouth still hanging open.

Slowly, she set down her mug on the counter.

Then she absolutely exploded into a fit of hysterical laughter the likes of which Church had never seen before.

That, at least, snapped him out of his stupor. “Hey ― what ―  _ don’t laugh at me!” _ he screeched, more frantic than he was angry. “It’s not ― it’s not like ―  _ shut up! It’s a valid question!” _

Tex, for her part, only laughed all the harder. “You _ dumbass!”  _ she cackled, wrapping her arms around her torso and doubling over as if she actually needed air. “Oh my  _ God, _ is  _ that _ why you’ve been so bitchy lately?! Because you thought we were still broke up?! That’s  _ priceless!  _ Oh, Jesus, you’re such a  _ baby!” _

_ “I am not!” _ Church shrieked, and, in the distance, something shattered.

“Aw, fuck, my visor!” Tucker yelped distantly.

Tex roared with laughter once again, slamming her fist against the counter and her forehead right down next to it.  _ “Te-ex!” _ Church whined ― even he couldn’t deny it; he was whining, no ifs about it ― but she paid him no mind. “Tex, shut  _ up! _ You’re  _ embarrassing  _ me!”

Finally, her laughter simmered down to something that was almost a giggle, although for his own safety Church would never call it that out loud. “God, you’re a dumbass,” she snickered (yeah, “snickered” was probably safe). “I thought I made it  _ obvious.” _

Church made a sort of choking/screaming noise that would’ve embarrassed him if he hadn’t already completely abandoned his dignity long back down the road. “Wh ― you ―  _ obvi ― YOU DID  _ **_NOT_ ** _ MAKE IT OBVIOUS!” _

Tex raised an eyebrow, still grinning so widely that it had to hurt her cheeks. “Preeeet-ty surrrre I diii-iid,” she teased, almost sing-song.

Hissing through his nose like a cat with a sinus infection, Church crossed his arms tightly over his chest and pouted.  _ “Did not,” _ he muttered, staring sullenly at the ground.

Tex snorted, but didn’t justify that with a response. There was a brief, unsure pause as Church stared down at his feet, numbly reviewing the conversation in his head. That seemed like pretty conclusive evidence that they were back “together”, but…

“Here.”

Blinking, Church glanced up. Tex was offering him his mug ― which, he just now realized, she had filled with coffee. His eyes flickered up to her face for a second, but she was just grinning toothily. “Uh, thanks,” he said uncertainly, accepting the mug―

Tex swooped forward, grabbed the back of his head with both hands, and pulled him in for a kiss. Coffee sloshed over the edge of Church’s mug.

The kiss only lasted for a second, but Tex’s hands lingered.

“Boyfriend,” she teased lightly.

Church’s face went warm immediately. Mortified, he threw up a hand to hide it, spilling more coffee in the process, but it was too late ― she’d already seen.  _ “Tex―”  _ he squeaked in protest as she laughed at him  _ again. _

“Jesus, if you do that every time, people are gonna think you’ve got a heart of gold underneath all the jaded, cynical asshole.” Snatching her own mug from the counter, Tex grabbed his wrist and pulled him along behind her, ignoring his yelp of protest as his coffee mug lurched and spilled a third time. “Also, you’re the one who broke it, so you’ve gotta call Command to get Tucker a new helmet.”

“What?! Bull _ shit,” _ Church groaned, then paused, considering for a second. “Wait, does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend?”

“No,” Tex said without hesitation.

“What the fuck, why not?!”

“Because I have a reputation to uphold, dumbass.”

“Wh ―  _ so do I!” _

“Church, I love you, but no the fuck you don’t.”

_ “Yes _ I fucking  _ do ―  _ wait. What was that?”

“...‘I tolerate you’.”

“That is  _ not _ what you said―”

“Is  _ too.” _

_ “IS NOT―!” _


End file.
